Women's Board

Some thoughts on becoming a mom

Posted By: Alyson <hempware@telusplanet.net> (161.184.192.153)
Date: Friday, 1 June 2001, at 4:38 a.m.

I've been surfing around a bit tonight, looking at fat stuff and baby stuff, creating a web page for the chat forum I frequent...Something happened around 6:30 tonight, and I've been unable to get into that chat forum for 8 hours, so I've been bored and surfing, or on the phone, all night.

I just came from a South African parenting discussion board I visit on occasion. The women there have some ideas on parenting that I don't agree with, but there's a new gem of wisdom every time I visit. The first time I went there, it was a poem about time-outs that work. This time, it was the following story, which nearly brought a tear to my eye reading it.

A conversation between friends:

We are sitting at lunch when my friend casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says, half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?"

"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.

"I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations...."

But that is not what I meant at all.

I look at my friend, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but that becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable. I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.

I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a souffle or her best crystal without a moment's hesitation. I feel I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of her discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.

I want my friend to know that everyday decisions will no longer be routine that a five-year-old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom. However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.

Looking at my attractive friend, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give it up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years - not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs. I want her to know that a caesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.

My friend's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic. I wish my friend could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving.

I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future. I want to describe to my friend the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or a cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real, it actually hurts.

My friend's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reach across the table, squeeze my friend's hand and offer a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all of the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings the blessed gift of God and that of being a Mother.

Author Unknown

I was talking to a friend tonight who gave birth on Sunday evening. Her breasts are engorged, she aches all over, hasn't slept well since Saturday, and she's still moving a lot slower than normal, but, she says, it's all worth it when she looks over at her baby boy. I related to her how I've had a baby in my lungs all day today, so can't breathe well at all, and, jokingly, I told her that I hadn't had a decent sleep since December. She laughed, reminded me that it wasn't that long ago that she was experiencing the same things I am...I agreed, and told her that, come August, all of the discomfort I'm experiencing now will have been well worth it. When I can hold my son or daughter, see the colour of his or her eyes, feel their hair, hear their heartbeat through their tiny chest...I just know that I'll forget all of this discomfort.

I've been thinking the past few days about all of the times I've heard parents refer to their children as "accidents" or "oopses". It hits home when I hear that, since I heard that throughout my own childhood. I'm a firm believer that such terms ought never to be applied to a child you love, even if the pregnancy was unexpected. My own pregnancy was completely unexpected, and I realized the other day how lucky we were that I didn't get pregnant before he asked me to marry him. We were hardly careful; timing just worked out perfectly that November was the lucky month. Regardless of the unexpected nature, however, we are both absolutely tickled pink to be becoming parents. Dave has said on more than one occasion that he intended to get me pregnant, albeit not so soon. This child will never be referred to as an accident, in its presence, or in anyone else's. The term "surprise" will be used, yes, but I realized today just how wanted this child is.

The future has been greatly on our minds lately, as I suppose it is for any expectant parent. We've made a few decisions over the past week or so...When this baby is a year old, we plan to try to conceive our second child. With this paycheck, we'll start saving money so that, in four or five years time, we can put a downpayment on a house of our own. We've discussed education options for our child, as I am quite adamant on the type of schooling I want for my children. Discipline methods and such have been big topics.

I am grateful that Dave and I can agree on the parenting choices we will be faced with. I am grateful, as well, that we have wonderful families who can provide us with the baby necessities that we wouldn't be able to afford otherwise, and can provide helpful advice as well. My sister tonight sent my parents home with cloth diapers, rubber pants, bottles, and 4 years worth of clothes for us. When she gets it back from a friend, she'll also send her playpen our way. Perhaps Dave and I were lucky enough to be born the youngest of our families, both with sisters who have had children already, although my sister received a great deal of hand-me-downs when my niece was born from our aunts and grandparents, since the youngest grandchild at the time was only three or four years old.

Above all else, though, I am, and will eternally be, grateful that my children will be born into a loving home with extended families on both sides that will love and dote on them, not to mention the various friends who are impatiently awaiting the baby's birth.

I'm feeling rather sappy tonight, hence the length of my ramblings. I guess I'm just feeling rather good about becoming a mom, even though I do have a waist size only inches smaller than a woman expecting quads! (hehehe). I suppose being unable to reach the kitchen taps, and barely fitting into the tub is a small, temporary, price to pay for the joy I'll have come August.

Alyson